


your own little universe

by larry_hystereks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Blow Jobs, College, Existentialism, M/M, Plantboy!Phil, Spaceboy!Dan, Tattoos, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larry_hystereks/pseuds/larry_hystereks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dan considers his existence irrelevant, minuscule compared to the complexity of the entire universe. and then he meets phil, who's strange and likes plants, and leaves dan with a sense of intrigue he hasn't felt in years. </p><p>or in which dan's an existentialist, phil wants to be a gardener, and the duo journey into a new beginning neither quite foresaw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your own little universe

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: there is A LOT of existentialism and heavy thoughts of pondering whether or not your existence truly matters. there are references to suicide, however no characters express any desire to actually die. 
> 
> if you are unfamiliar with what existentialism actually is, it's basically the idea of continuing to exist and waiting for the inevitability of death. 
> 
> it may come off as depression, and though existentialism isn't actually depression, the thoughts and concepts do share a correlation that can be considered triggering to some people. 
> 
> if you have any questions at all about the fic before you want to read it, please feel free to leave a comment and I'll gladly answer you.
> 
> you can also message me anonymously on my tumblr, tbfhlmao.tumblr.com, if that would make you more comfortable.

When he’s sixteen, Dan decides his existence doesn’t really matter.

He used to dwell on it, spend sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed wondering how he was supposed to leave his print on the world. He wanted nothing more than for people to remember him, for his name to not be forgotten along with everyone else's after they died. 

Dan needed to matter, he needed validation.

He didn’t want death to come for him and all he’d have was a small handful of diplomas and a mediocre job.

Dan needed it to mean something. His life needed to count for something.

It was the ominous ‘something’ that kept him awake at night. It was the something that brought him out to his roof, laying in the cold under a blanket of glowing stars, looking to them for the answers he was seeking. The stars meant something. They had purpose. People wouldn't forget them. They were something. 

Every time he closed his eyes he saw university graduations, jobs held inside the confines of a cubicle, an average wife, an average house, average, average, average.

Dan Howell didn’t want to be average.

But he also knew he couldn’t compete with the stars.

What he saw in the stars were endless. He saw the constellations and was reminded of a structure he couldn’t maintain. The moon and it’s gravity reminded him of the responsibilities he wasn’t good enough to uphold. Galaxies were adventures he never had, dying stars still shone bright to be remembered in a way that only the greatest of humans had achieved.

Dan was small. Insignificant. A passer by.

When he contemplated what his purpose in the world was, he came up empty. He didn't have anyone he considered a friend and his parents barely seemed to notice anything he ever did. He wasn't anything extraordinary, he wasn't exceptional, but instead he found himself holding the unfortunate title of ordinary. 

So he decides, then, to stop worrying. To stop spending his nights dreaming of futures he could never fulfill.

He deems himself so tiny, so small, so irrelevant to the greater scheme of the universe that he decides it all really doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t want to off himself. Death comes into his mind as an inescapable fate; not something to run towards, but not something you can run away from either.

If a bus were to hit him tomorrow, he doesn't think he'd care, but he doesn't find himself with the desire to go running into traffic at the next opportunity he gets. Fate is fate, and death is just death, he supposes. 

So, he makes the decision to simply just exist.

And that’s what he does, making his way through the grey-colored walls of his high school, going through the motions, attending his classes, speaking when a professor calls on him, doing his homework, etc, etc, etc. He repeats this all the way until he’s got a cap and gown on and his mother is crying and he’s got a diploma clutched in his left hand.

Society goes to university, so that’s what Dan does too.

He goes into uni undeclared in his major, wondering if he could graduate undeclared as well. It would be quite fitting, if he’s being honest.

He has a roommate, which is strange, but he’s nice enough. He’s got curly brown hair and is studying film. His roommate, PJ, is quite friendly and often has friends over to their small en suite apartment.

Dan doesn’t mind; there’s a small roof outside his bedroom window, perfect enough for a person to lay and stare at the stars.

“Hey, Dan!” Dan perks up from his spot on the roof, peering back into his bedroom from the outside window.

“Yeah?”

PJ’s stood in Dan’s bedroom doorway with a happy grin on.

“A couple of my film mates are going out for a drink, you want to join?”

“No, I’m okay, thank you.” The words have left his mouth before he even considers PJ’s offer. He’s asked a few times before, but every time Dan gives him the same response. What's the point in going out when he can lay out here in the presence of the night sky? He truly believes there isn't one. 

PJ frowns a bit. “Come on, Dan. I’ll buy you a beer or something. It’ll be fun, promise.”

“It’s fine, I don’t-”

PJ walks over to Dan’s window before he gets a chance to finish his sentence.

“Mate, I barely know you and we’ve lived together nearly a month.” PJ starts. “If you go this one time with me, I promise I’ll never ask you again.”

That gets Dan’s attention and he finds himself nodding and climbing back into his room.

“Fine, but I still want that free beer.”

PJ snorts and slaps him on the back, leading the two of them out of the room before Dan has a chance to change out of his black skinny jeans and his even more black jumper that he’s been wearing for the past two days.

It’s not like his wardrobe really matters anyway, though, so those thoughts of putting on cleaner, more presentable clothes, leave his mind almost as quick as they entered.

The pub they arrive at seems nice enough. It’s dark and loud, but the beer is cheap and PJ buys him his first.

PJ introduces him to the group, and Dan’s met with various ‘hellos’. A few people try and strike up a conversation with Dan, but after a while they turn their attention away from the boy with few words to offer.

It’s not that Dan isn’t enjoying himself, he’s quite content at the moment. He just doesn’t have a lot to say, nothing that he thinks is worth saying, at least.

Why does it matter what his favorite sports team is, or what movies have brought tears to his eyes? Why do people want to know what he’s doing with the rest of his life, what his plans are, when he’s arguably just waiting to die.

“Phil, you made it!”

Dan’s drawn from his thoughts as PJ gets up from the table and hugs the person that just arrived, Phil, Dan presumes from the way PJ called out his name before.

“Here, sit down, I’ll grab you a drink.” PJ says. “Oh, this is my roommate Dan, he’s great!”

PJ smiles, a bit drunkenly, at the two of them before making his way to the bar for Phil’s drink.

Phil thanks him with a smile and shrugs off his jacket, sitting next to Dan. He’s got short black hair with a fringe that’s similar to his own and a dark blue jumper that shapes his shoulders in a way that's aesthetically pleasing to Dan.

“Hi, I’m Phil.”

“So I’ve heard,” Dan replies. “I’m Dan, but then again, you already knew that too.”

Phil lets out a surprised snort, proceed by a small amount of chuckling.

“You’re funny, I like you.”

Dan’s grip around his beer tightens a bit and he swallows. He’s not used to people being so straightforward with him like that.

“So what you are studying?” Phil asks. 

“I’m undeclared.”

“Oh, wow, same actually.” Phil says. “I regretted asking you as soon as the words left my mouth because I’d worried you would ask what my major was too.”

Phil lets out a relieved little laugh and Dan finds himself smiling.

“I probably wouldn’t have asked you, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s good to hear. My alternative universe self where you have your life planned out and I don’t is thriving.”

Dan lets out a surprised laugh.

“You’re strange.” Dan says, not rudely, more of as a generalized statement.

“And you’re blunt. I like that.”

Phil gives him a weird little smile, it growing when PJ appears from behind him and places a beer in front of him.

“Awe, thanks Peej.”

They continue drinking into the night until Dan’s pleasantly buzzed and has somehow managed to learn more about Phil than he’s learned about anyone else he’s ever met in his entire life.

He learns Phil’s older than him by a year and freaking out that he’s still undeclared. He’s got an older brother, Martin, who’s getting married near Christmas, which he's slightly bitter about because Christmas is his favorite holiday. Buffy is his favorite show, his roommate is a slob, and he prefers cocktails to a beer but he was too polite to tell PJ otherwise.

Phil’s also really into plants. Flowers, trees, shrubs, you name it. His favorites are cacti. He wanted to be a gardener but everyone was going to university, so that’s where Phil went to.

“You could still be a gardener," Dan tells him. "Why waste your life doing something you don’t want to do?”

Dan’s leaning closer to him now, their arms nearly touching on the table, the two engrossed in their own conversation, the noise of the pub humming as a faded background. 

“You make it sound so simple,” Phil says, smiling at him. “I wish it were that easy, I wish I could live in a small house and sit in my yard all day, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

While Dan may not understand what it's like to have a passion in something, he think Phil at least deserves to follow his own. 

Phil laughs.

“Well first, I don’t have a full time job and all my money’s going towards university, so I can’t exactly purchase a home,” Phil says. “And secondly, I can’t actually get a job as a gardener. That particular occupation won’t exactly pay the bills.”

Dan sighs and shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. He wonders when this one got here and how much money he’s going to owe PJ after tonight.

“Enough about me though, what about you?”

“What about me what?” Dan asks, setting his drink back down.

“Your life, your hobbies, dream jobs, worst-break up, best Halloween costume, whatever.” Phil responds.

Dan shrugs.

“I’m not really interested in anything.”

“Well what do you do when you don’t have classes or homework or work-” Phil pauses. “Do you work?”

Dan nods. “Yeah, in the library every other day.”

Phil smiles. “Adorable; a little librarian Dan,” he shakes his head. “I’ll have to stop by sometime.”

Dan feels his face heat up and wonders what the hell that tightening feeling in his stomach is. He hopes he doesn’t throw up, that would be quite inconvenient to himself and everyone surrounding him.

“Anyway,” Phil says. “Like I was saying before. Hobbies. What do you do in your spare time?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really-” Phil starts to pout and Dan rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. I guess I like looking at the stars? I don’t know there’s a small ledge outside my bedroom window. It’s nice.”

Phil’s smile is soft and he rests his face against his hand, elbow leaning on the table.

“Tell me about the stars.”

Dan laughs. “What about them?”

“Everything, anything, I don’t care.”

Dan takes another long sip of his drink, finishing it, before setting it down.

“I like how it changes, I guess.”

“What’da mean?”

“The constellations,” Dan explains. “How depending on the time of year, the month, it can be different. They’re always moving.”

Dan shrugs his shoulders, wondering what that look Phil has in his eyes means. It almost reminds Dan of admiration.

“Do you have a favorite constellation?”

“No, not really.”

“What if they were all going to disappear from the sky and you could only save one. Which one would you save?”

Dan’s eyebrows furrow, thinking of how Phil has the consistency to rephrase questions in a way that makes Dan actually answer them. It’s almost frustrating knowing Phil cares enough to hear Dan’s opinions on things and that he spends the extra time to articulate a question in a new way. Dan wonders why Phil cares about the trivial things in Dan's life, or why anyone would for that matter. 

“Why can I save only one, exactly?” Dan asks in response to Phil's question. 

Phil rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Just answer the question, Dan.”

Dan thinks about it, contemplating the ridiculous notion of the sky going permanently black except for the one constellation Dan was responsible for saving.

“Ursa Major.” Dan finally answers.

“Why that one?”

“It’s always there, I s’pouse. Moves around, but it’s constant. Reliable. I know I’ll always be able to find it when I look up there.”

Phil opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of someone at their table yelling “shots!” before glasses are being passed around with a clear, horrible smelling liquid that’s being pushed into both Dan and Phil’s hands.

“Cheers, mates!” Someone calls out.

Their table holds up their glasses before downing it and Phil knocks his against Dan’s.

“To meeting new people.” Phil says.

Dan smiles and raises the glass to his lips, noting the bobbing of Phil’s adam apple before the drink is moving hot down his own throat.

The drinks keep coming, more shots are done, and soon Dan’s entire body feels warm, his laughs bubble out of him before he can think about it, and Phil’s pressed to him so close he can feel it all the way in his toes.

They end up outside of the pub and onto the cold dark street, Phil’s arm wrapped around Dan’s waist to keep the both of them steady as they walk.

“Look, Ursa Major!” Dan says, pointing to the sky.

Phil leans into Dan, his eyes following Dan’s outstretched hand.

“I can’t see it, where is it?”

“There, you knob.” Dan says, giggling.

Phil squints and lets out a huff.

“I still can’t see it, Dan I want to see it!” Phil practically whines. 

“Alright, alright, let’s go back to my apartment and we can lay down on my roof and I’ll show you.”

It’s Phil who giggles this time, the vibrations shaking Dan as well.

“Daniel, are you inviting me home with you.”

Dan blushes, drunkenly laughing as well.

He pushes Phil lightly, but not hard enough to untangle themselves as they walk back towards the university and to Dan’s apartment.

Phil’s humming a song Dan doesn’t recognize and Dan finds himself wondering what song it is, who it’s by, why Phil knows it. Dan doesn’t remember the last time he properly listened to music and he thinks maybe it’s because he’s drunk, or maybe because Phil’s cute and made his stomach twist into knots all night, but his head clouds with the desire to listen to music.

Phil stops suddenly and Dan almost trips forward.

“Why did you stop, you alright?”

“Tattoos!” Phil says, smiling widely at Dan.

Dan frowns at him and looks at the glowing neon sign of the tattoo shop, still open.

“You want to get one?” Dan asks.

Phil nods his head.

“Yeah, let’s do it. I’ve always wanted one.”

Phil moves his arm from Dan’s waist and instead grabs his hand, pulling the two of them into the small tattoo shop.

“Hi, how can I help you boys tonight?” The woman at the front desk greets.

“I’d like a tattoo, please.” Phil says. He turns to Dan. “Are you getting one?”

Dan snorts, his eyes still half opened because of how bright the room is.

“What would I get?”

“Ursa Major, your favorite!” Phil answers immediately.

Dan rolls his eyes, but can’t think of a reason not to get a tattoo, so why the hell not.

“Fine, sure, I’ll get one too.” Dan agrees, laughing when Phil practically squeals in joy. “What are you getting?”

“A plumeria.”

“A what?” Dan and the woman ask at the same time.

“A plumeria, a frangipani, it's a flower, google it.” He says to Dan, poking him in the nose and grinning.

The tattoo artist greets them then, gets what they want and after a bit of research he’s back in no time with two sketches.

Both Dan and Phil agree that they want it tattooed on their bodies and soon Phil’s sinking into the chair first, getting a needle pressed against the the top of his left hip bone.

“Distract me,” Phil says, wincing in pain. “Please.”

“With what?” Dan asks. He grabs Phil’s hand and Phil squeezes as the needle inks his skin.

“Favorite holiday?”

“Never left England.”

“Book?”

“Not much of a reader.”

“Singer?”

“Don’t listen to much music either.”

“Why not?”

Dan shrugs. “Don’t really see the point, I guess.”

“Why not?” Phil asks again, his eyebrows drawing together in what appears to be bewilderment.

Phil winces again and Dan rubs his thumb over Phil’s hand absentmindedly.

“It’s insignificant.” Dan says in response to Phil’s question.

“What is?”

“Life,” Dan answers. His head is so muddled with alcohol he can’t seem to tell his brain to shut up. “There’s so many people in the world doing so many things that will add up to nothing in the grand scheme of things. What we do yesterday, or today, or tomorrow, doesn’t have any affect on the world.”

Phil blinks at him and Dan continues, his mouth moving before he can tell himself to shut the hell up.

“We’re all just going through the motions. High school, university, to what? Get a job, have a family, live in a house, die. That’s it. It’s all the same for everyone. So I don’t see the point.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to make the most of it then?” Phil asks.

“Out of what? Life?” Phil nods and Dan shakes his head. “Don’t see why I should. The amount of time we spend on Earth is nothing in comparison to everything outside of us.”

“What about love?”

“What about it?”

“Have you ever been?”

Dan shakes his head again. “Can’t say I have, no.”

“Alright,” the tattoo artist says. “You’re all done, you ready kid?”

Dan nods as Phil stands, the two of them switching positions.

Dan tugs his shirt over his head, pointing out the spot along his ribs where he wants the tattoo.

The artist gives him a wary look, but proceeds anyway, transferring the outlined sketch onto Dan’s skin.

Soon enough the needle is pressing into Dan’s side, his hand squeezing Phil’s, somewhat wishing Phil would fill the silence with words, but also enjoying the soft sounds of the gun buzzing.

His head is pounding, still cloudy with liquor, though it’s not enough to completely drown out the pain of the needle. He keeps Phil’s hand in his, eyes closed, until the buzzing stops and the two of them are forking over money to the artist.

The two step back out into the cold air and Phil’s oddly quiet. Dan wishes it wasn’t bothering him so much, he wishes he didn’t care that Phil was silent because he knows how much it doesn’t matter.

“Do you still want to crash at my place?” Dan eventually says.

They’ve been walking in the direction of Dan’s apartment for quite some time, Phil having made no effort to head towards his own, wherever his own may be.

“Yeah, sure. My roommate will probably be pissed if I come stumbling in this late anyway.”

Dan hums in acknowledgment, his hand itching to reach out to Phil’s, to touch him, to just feel him there with him.

They make it back to Dan’s dorm in silence, and Dan leads them into his bedroom, briefly wondering if PJ ever made it home.

“Uh, you can take the bed, I can sleep on the floor.” Dan says, scratching the back of his head. The walk definitely sobered him up, even though his head is still a bit fuzzy.

“Where’s this roof of yours?”

“What?”

“The roof,” Phil says again. “Where you look at the stars. I want to see, if that’s alright.”

“Oh it’s uh,” Dan points to his window. “It’s a bit small.”

The word’s have barely left Dan’s mouth before Phil’s opening up the window and making his way onto the small roof. Dan stands there, a bit dumbfounded, until Phil pokes his head back to his room, asking him if he’s coming.

Dan climbs out his window, laying down next to Phil, so close that their bodies are flush up against each other.

“Wow.” Phil says, staring up at the sky.

Dan smiles.

“I know.”

It’s quiet for a while, just the sounds of their even breaths, the faded bass sounds from a party in the distance, the occasional car siren.

“Isn’t this worth living for?”

“What?” Dan asks. He turns his head to see Phil already staring at him.

“This, the sky, the stars. It’s breathtaking.” Phil says. “Wouldn’t you say that’s reason to live?”

“Phil, it’s not that I don’t have a will to live, I’m not depressed.” Dan explains with a frown. “I just don’t see the point.”

“Why, though?”

Dan sighs. “Because we’re all going to die anyway, this conversation, this entire night we had, every day of our lives, it doesn’t affect anything.”

“It affects me.”

“What?” Dan asks, his eyebrows drawing together.

Phil twists on his side, now laying down and completely facing Dan. He reaches out and grabs Dan’s hand, pulling it towards his chest and holding it there.

“This,” Phil starts. “This right here affects me.”

“Phil-”

“I’m not done,” Phil says. “It affects me. It’s affected me all night and it’s going to affect me tomorrow and 30 years from now I’m still going to remember this. I’m going to remember meeting a cute boy in a pub, with a lovely voice, who told me to my face he thought I was strange but still wasn’t deterred from it. I’m going to remember getting piss drunk with him and getting a tattoo that I might regret. It affected me, please Dan, tell me it affected you too.”

“I-” Dan doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say because he can hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel Phil’s beating against his hand on Phil’s chest. He wonders if he’s going to look back on this night. He wonders if every time he looks at the ink that’s now permanently etched into his skin he’s going to think of the black haired man that wanted nothing more than to be a gardener.

Dan wants to tell himself it won’t affect him, that it doesn’t, but Phil’s eyes are so blue staring into his and Dan swears he can see the reflection of the constellations in them.

“Dan-” Phil’s voice breaks his thoughts and he’s not sure who moves first but suddenly lips are pressed against his, warm and wet.

Dan feels Phil’s hand slide along his cheek, thumbing over the bone as his tongue dips into Dan’s mouth, pressing against his own.

Dan’s head is racing almost as fast as his heart because he’s never felt this. Sure he’s kissed people, he’s fucked people, been fucked, but this is something else entirely. This is bliss, this what people write poems about and people that Dan calls crazy. This is something Dan never even contemplated himself feeling.

Phil presses another kiss to his lips, pulling away to look him in the eyes, their mouths both open, just almost touching.

“Tell me you felt that.” Phil says, barely above a whisper.

Dan blinks and swallows. Felt what? What the hell did he feel, what was that?

“I’ve never-” Dan starts. “That was-”

Dan swallows again, before shutting his eyes, closing the gap between them again, letting out a small moan when the hand that was on Dan’s cheek moves to the back of his head to draw him closer.

Phil bites at Dan’s bottom lip, tugging it gently between his teeth, making Dan let out a low whine.

Phil’s hands snake under his shirt, cold air pressing against his skin in a fleeting contrast against the warmth of Phil’s palm. His lips move against his own in way that borders a feeling of familiarity.

They’re so close, hands against each other, legs tangled, mouths wet and pressed together.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Phil breathes against him.

“Christ, I don’t know.” Dan sighs in pleasure while Phil kisses his jaw.

“Dan, I want to blow you but I don’t want to do anything if this is just sex to you.”

“Phil, I-” Dan looks at Phil’s waiting eyes, heart hammering away in his chest so hard he worries it might explode. “I don’t want it to be.”

It’s as honest of an answer Dan can give, which seems to be enough for Phil because soon enough Dan’s cock is in his mouth and his hand is tangled in Phil’s dark hair.

Dan bites at his other hand to stifle his groans, focusing on the way Phil’s working his tongue against him, Dan wanting so badly to thrust his hips upwards into him.

It doesn’t take Dan much; Phil’s great with his mouth, great with his hands, and when Dan comes down his throat his eyes are on the stars.

When Dan catches his breath, he pushes Phil onto his back, kissing him and moaning into his mouth when he tastes himself against Phil’s tongue.

He pushes down Phil’s pants and he’s never wanted to suck another person’s cock this much before in his life.

He kisses Phil’s lips again, his own lips whispering against them that he can fuck his mouth if he’d like to, before they wrap around Phil’s tip that was already leaking in precum.

Phil decides to take Dan up on that offer, his hips jerking into Dan’s mouth. Dan let’s his jaw go lax, letting Phil take Dan’s hair between his fingers and push his head down as he moves his hips upwards.

Dan takes it, every thrust, enough to make his eyes water but christ, he fucking loves every second of it. 

Phil’s hips stutter, his head falling backwards as he comes into Dan’s mouth, letting out the most beautiful moan Dan's ever been blessed enough to hear.

Dan swallows what he can, sitting up and wiping the excess from his mouth onto the back of his jeans.

“That was amazing.” Phil says, voice rough.

“Yeah, it was.”

“You mean that?”

Phil’s leaned up on his elbows, hair a wreck from when Dan’s fingers were running through it, cock still out of his jeans. Dan thinks he looks gorgeous.

“Yeah, I do.”

Phil smiles, tugging him forward by his shirt until their lips are at each other’s once again.

Dan’s the first to pull away, offering a hand to Phil as he leads the two of them back into his room.

Dan strips down to his boxers, Phil doing to the same, the two of them flopping into Dan’s bed with such coordination it seems like they’ve done this a million times before.

Dan pulls his comforter over them, snuggling his way into Phil’s chest.

He’s never been one to cuddle after sex before, never understood the appeal, but this, he thinks, is the warmest and safest he’s ever felt.

Phil’s hand runs along Dan’s spine, Dan’s hand tracing along the lines of Phil’s chest, working his way to his hip. He stops when he feels the bandage, reminded of the tattoos they both got earlier.

“Your tattoo.” Dan says.

“Hm?” Phil hums in response.

“The plumeria, why that flower?”

He can feel Phil’s smile against his hair.

“It means ‘new beginnings’.”

Dan’s fingers run along the tape of the bandage, feeling the texture. He hears Phil’s heart beat in his ear, matching the rhythm of his own. He feels the way Phil’s soft breath tickles the hairs of his head, mimicking the gentle movements of his fingers along Dan’s back, moving in such a way that makes him smile.

“I like the sound of that.” Dan says, once again feeling Phil’s grin in his hair.

Phil kisses the top of his head, whispering a soft goodnight to him.

Dan doesn’t know what’s going on, what he felt, what he’s still feeling. He think about death and how it still awaits him, thinks about the irrelevancy of his future and of his general existence.

He thinks of the person he’s laying on top of, their giant smiles, their fascination with plants, the natural interest he carried for Dan.

Phil is interesting, he’s strange, he’s different, he’s a new beginning.

Dan still considers his existence irrelevant in the big picture, but for the first time, in a long time, he wonders about the impact he could have on a smaller scale.

**Author's Note:**

> welp that was definitely a bit heavier than my last one LOL
> 
> hmu on twitter @hystereks


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